


Columbian Lions

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Beach Sex, Dom Lexa, Dom/sub, F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, G!P, G!p Lexa, Girl Penis, Happy Ending, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Spanking, Sub Clarke, baby girl clarke, daddy lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6299383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fine Stud Lexa finds Clarke staring. It's all smut from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I hate these things," Clarke mutters under her breath. She's stuck in a fundraising gala, and all because her mother just got a job at Columbia's medical department. She was supposed to be schmoozing the big wigs, but she's at the bar downing another whiskey rocks.

She turns to face the crowd, leaning against the bar and crossing her legs under her tight strapless red dress. It's a charming old building, plenty of history, plenty of room. She scans the crowd, and her eyes catch on a figure leaning against a nearby marble column.

It's not something Clarke sees everyday. A slender woman in a dark as night suit with a black button up, slightly glimmering red slim tie, matching pocket square. Long pants hugging her hips, ending just a bit short on purpose. Her feet are encased in supple black leather shoes, a slice of red socks peeking out. She lets her eyes travel back up. Her suit jacket is held together with one button, well tailored specifically for her, a hand on a whiskey glass, one in her pocket, casually nonchalant. When Clarke reaches her eyes she feels a heat touch her cheeks, but she doesn't look away.

Sparkling grey green eyes are boring into her own, a devilish smirk on her full lips. Her hair is swept to one side, light brown curls falling down past her slim notch lapel. Soon she's swaggering over, the picture of confidence.

She extends a long fingered hand, and Clarke catches sight of a silver class ring and a diamond encrusted Rolex.

"I don't believe we have the opportunity to meet. Lexa Woods," she says, voice a tick higher than Clarke had expected.

"Clarke Griffin. We haven't. I would remember you," she husks, lingering on the hand in hers before dropping it.

"Are you a Columbia graduate as well?" Lexa asks, leaning one arm around Clarke to rest on the bar, the other finding her pocket again.

"Pratt. I'm in Greenwich Village now. In a shoebox."

Lexa laughs, she's never lived in a shoebox, but she can sympathize none the less.

"Columbia, as you know, then Harvard Law. I live in Lenox Hill, in a penthouse."

Clarke barely manages to keep her mouth from falling open, but Lexa reads her face like an open book.

"May I get you a drink, Miss Griffin?"

Clarke recovers herself only slightly to nod, then Lexa's leaning in, fingers trailing down her pale arm. Her head is swimming with Lexa's perfume, or is it cologne, whatever it is it's more intoxicating than all the drinks in the world. It's woodsy with a hint of deep rose, and Clarke finds herself unconsciously leaning into her neck, back coming off the bar.

"A bottle of your best champagne," Lexa calls to the bartender, a thick wad of hundreds placed down. All proceeds from the gala are going to Columbia's medical scholarship fund, but she'd spend any amount of cash on this gorgeous blonde.

Lexa does the honor of popping the champagne, getting it in one try, and Clarke brings the bottle and Lexa's hand to her mouth, sucking the bubbles overflowing then taking a long forefinger into her mouth. She swirls her tongue around it, and Lexa feels her pants get a bit tight.

They make it to two glasses each, talking mostly about Clarke's artwork. Lexa instantly commissions a self portrait of Clarke, says they can discuss details over dinner next week, and that's when Lexa starts waxing poetic about turbot with château chalon sauce. She seems to be an obsessive foodie, Clarke notes. As the topic turns back to Clarke (her beautiful dress, her hair, her eyes, those legs), Lexa almost has Clarke pinned to the bar, in the middle of a huge crowd. Clarke is twirling a lock of brown hair around her fingers, glass abandoned, the other pressed against the red tuft of her pocket square, ready to to tug her in impossibly closer. Lexa has one hand on Clarke's hip, the other in her pocket, trying and failing to conceal her semi erect dick. Clarke's lips start ghosting over the shell of her ear, and hot breath is pounding through her brain. There's no way she could get herself to speak at the moment.

"What's that in your pocket?" Clarke asks, already knowing the answer. Lexa steels herself.

"Something that was made to fuck your brains out and custom fitted to that pretty mouth, baby girl."

The moan and tight clutch on her strong bicep lets Lexa know she's hit her mark.

"Get your driver," Clarke hisses out. Her mother is long forgotten.

Lexa promptly offers her arm and they almost speed walk out the large revolving doors. Somehow her limo is already waiting on them.

The doors aren't even shut before Clarke is on top of her, kissing her with abandon. She goes for the blazer, but fast hands draw hers away.

"Easy, baby girl. Daddy will take care of you when we get home," she promises, and Clarke feels even wetter.

Lexa kisses her slowly and deeply, Clarke grinding on her hard length in time. She can tell it's big, and she grinds even harder.

They criss-cross Manhattan lost to the world, lost in each other.

They pull up to the front of a skyscraper, and Lexa is practically dragging Clarke by the hand. The doorman ignores the large tent in Lexa's pants, and soon she's jamming the elevator button.

As soon as the doors ding closed, she's undoing her belt, Clarke hot on her neck. She doesn't even care if someone catches them, hell she'd gladly put on a show.

Clarke falls to the carpeted floor and wastes zero time licking at a dark pink head that's curving up to meet her mouth. Lexa slams a fist hard to the wall off the elevator when she sucks it into her warm wet mouth. Her proud member is thicker than most, and certainly longer, arching upwards a bit to reach the back of the blonde's throat.

"Suck Daddy like a good girl," she commands, a hand latching onto perfect blonde waves.

"Yes, Daddy," Clarke purrs onto the tip of her throbbing cock. She meets the jerk of Lexa's hips with her mouth and struggles to swallow the inches as they disappear. She's breathing deep through her nose as her forehead mashes into trimmed brown curls.

"Fuuuuuck," Lexa groans as Clarke sucks hard on the slow retraction.

Clarke catches her teeth on her sensitive head, and Lexa jerks in a mix of pleasure and pain. Lexa increases her hold on the roots of her hair to an almost painful level.

"Do that one more time and I'll punish you... hard," and there's dangerous anger in her blown eyes.

Clarke gives her a wink and bites down softly on the tip of the dick filling her mouth. Lexa lets out an almighty growl, throws Clarke over her shoulder like she weighs less than air and is moving forward before the doors are even fully open. The elevator opens to the front foyer of her penthouse, and Lexa waves her keypass fast and kicks the door open.

Clarke, upside down, can tell this place is worth tens of millions. The lights come on automatically as the door bangs shut. Lexa's marching fast to the nearest flat surface she can find.

Her grand piano, a hobby that could have been a profession, and she'll take that anger at a lost love out on Clarke too. She throws Clarke down, a gentle hand catching her then thrusting her face down ass up.

"You've been naughty," Lexa almost yells unzipping Clarke's dress and literally ripping off her soaked thong. That's for her to keep. She'll buy her her own chain of Agent Provocateur stores if she has to.

"And now Daddy has to punish you," she says into Clarke's ear. The loud moans only have her harder and more ready for this.

She raises her right hand and comes down hard. The smack echoes around the penthouse.

"Yes, Daddy," Clarke cries. Another hard smack to the other cheek. Lexa takes a moment to admire her hand prints bright pink and well defined against that perfect ass. Two more smacks with everything she's got, then she's kneeling down. She starts massaging lightly, feathery kisses to assuage the pain. Clarke almost loses all control of herself at this gentle display after such a dominate powerplay.

Lexa helps her step out her dress then turns Clarke around to face her. Clarke is blessed with the sweetest kisses she ever imagined and more. It feels like she's kissing pillows in heaven's pinkest cloud. She feels the hard press of Lexa's erection against her bare stomach.

"Can... Can I undress you?"

"Anytime, baby girl," she gets in response, followed by a kiss to her sweaty forehead. This girls is a paradox of riddles, she thinks to herself.

Clarke goes for the red tie first, taking her time unknotting it, staring hard into Lexa's dark eyes as she goes. That tie's hers to keep she thinks. The blazer goes next, thousands of dollars worth of combed Italian wool hitting the pristine waxed wood floors. She moves her mouth to Lexa's ear as she undoes silver cuff-links, fingers going for the top button of her smooth black button down.

"I've never wanted anything as badly, Daddy," she husks slowly as she reaches her waistband and smoothly slips her out of both her shirt and pants. She can't help but take a moment to view those perfectly toned muscles.

"As I want you inside of me," she finishes, pulling back to almost black eyes.

Lexa nods slightly, then Clarke's legs are around her waist and Lexa's ready to pound her into oblivion, walking quickly to the master bedroom. The low lights flick on and Clarke has a moment to notice the absolute decadence of the room before she's tossed onto the gigantic bed. Somehow there are candles already lit.

Lexa rids herself of her remaining undergarments and climbs like a beast of prey to Clarke. She stops long enough to kiss the sole of each foot, blessing each step that took Clarke to her. Then she's ghosting over toned calves one at a time, then nipping at creamy thighs. Suddenly she's right where she wanted to be since she laid eyes on Clarke.

The look Clarke receives as Lexa's mouth hovers over her is almost frightening. If tonight is the night someone eats her alive, then she's at peace. Warm breath dancing over her clit, she involuntarily jerks her hips up.

Lexa relents and begins a tortuous rhythm, working enough juices out of Clarke to get her ready to stretch to her limits. It seems to go on for hours to Clarke.

"Daddy," a long moan littered with profanities.

"Shhh, baby girl," a purposeful hard suck and flickering at her clit, fingers probing inside.

Lexa feels her start to clench relentlessly against her fingers and pulls away, knees hard on the mattress, back ramrod straight. She plunges her aching cock in halfway in a second and Clarke yells her pleasure for the whole city to hear.

Lexa starts a fair pace at first, rocking to meet Clarke's hips' thrusts. Soon she's hitting that spot and she leans in close, hands grabbing and pulling at firm breasts.

"You're taking Daddy's dick like a good girl. I might even let you come twice around me," Lexa growls.

Several deep thrust at the right angle and Clarke's a goner. She's clenching and pulling Lexa further in. She's calling Lexa's name to the whole world to hear, white heat pulsing through her, hands clawing at a smooth but muscled back. She barely has a moment to catch her breath before Lexa start back up a brutal pace.

"Lex-Ahhhhhh," she yells.

A well practiced hand reaches her clit to rub hard as Lexa reaches a blurring pace, pounding down with lightening speed. It take only twenty long seconds then Clarke is begging for it.

"Daddy... Please..." a long moan of ecstasy, she's on the edge again but wanting a shared release, "Come inside me!"

Lexa gives in then, coming deep inside Clarke, long spurts shooting into her trembling and clenching heat. She rocks slow and slower until they both get a grasp on reality.

Their vision clears as Lexa gives soft thrusts, guiding Clarke as gently as she can. Clarke flops back dramatically, and Lexa pulls out watching their shared release pour of Clarke's entrance and she's entranced. She could watch this a million times and more.

Lexa feels boneless, but manages to turn the lights off and pull the cool sheets up before she collapses, Clarke's head resting perfectly against the crook of her neck.

 

Clarke wakes to Claude Debussy's La Fille aux cheveux de lin wafting her way through an open door. She stands, naked and sore, and walks to the open living room. Lexa is there, long fingers at work, smirk on her full lips, an open dressing gown shielding the seat of the grand piano still covered in Clarke's handprints and breastprints.

Lexa finishes in a flourish, taking in the beauty in front of her.

"What would you like for breakfast, Miss Griffin?"

Clarke keeps the Lion class ring for far longer than breakfast.


	2. Bonus chaptrer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two since people seemed to dig it.

The next week passes slow for Clarke and Lexa alike. Lexa is in Paris on business, and Clarke is back in her shoebox, painting with her new muse on her mind. The first thing she paints is Lexa, relaxed on her plush giant bed, naked and fully erect, eyes burning through the canvas. They talk often in between business meetings.

Lexa offers to fly Clarke out on her private jet, tells her she can get them front row tickets to any ballet she likes, says she can cancel her meetings and they can explore the city together, but Clarke turns her down. She wants to play hard to get, even though this woman was balls deep inside of her not three days ago. She sends pictures and video of herself in her lingerie pleasuring herself often. This leads to a seething Lexa calling her to detail her a list of punishments, and it seemingly contains the contents of a whole hardware store. Clarke can hear her pumping at her cock through the phone, and they both end up coming to each other's breathy moans and dirty talk.

When Lexa's plane touches down, she's driven immediately to Clarke's apartment. She's there waiting for her, in a revealing dark blue dress and black Louboutin's that were sent to her with a ludicrously expensive bouquet of flowers, a signed note attached that smelled like Lexa's cologne.

Lexa herself hops out to open the door for her, the kind of chivalrous move reserved for select few. It's an Armani suit this time, tailored and clean. It's a navy blue to match Clarke's, but she's wearing it with a style all her own, tie done up with a knot Clarke's never seen.

Lexa gives her a long kiss, and Clarke melts into it.

"I missed you, baby girl," she says, hand coming up to caress her cheek.

"I missed you, too, Daddy."

Lexa smiles and pulls out a box from beside her. She hands it to Clarke with an almost bashful look.

"I know you said you didn't want any souvenirs, but I saw this in a window display and couldn't help myself. It looks like it was made for you."

Clarke opens the box and lights up. It's a tasteful and elegant diamond necklace with matching earrings. She thinks it probably cost over a hundred thousand dollars.

"Lexa..." she trails off. She's quieted with a lingering kiss and a firm hand on her thigh.

"Don't worry about it, Clarke. I wanted to do this, I promise."

Clarke nods and turns around. Lexa pushes her hair to one side and fastens the necklace on then replaces her earrings. Clarke turns back to face her, and Lexa is smiling so wide that it sets butterflies aflutter in the blonde's stomach.

"A vision of beauty, perfection."

"Thank you, Daddy," a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course, baby girl."

The driver pulls to a stop in front of a restaurant that Clarke has seen in lists of Michelin top rated places in New York. Again, Lexa hops out to help her out of the limo and guides her with a hand of the small of her back.

"The usual back room, Ms. Woods?"

"Yes, thank you, Claude. And a bottle of your finest vintage."

Lexa pulls out her chair for Clarke and sits opposite, her long hair down and straight tonight. A waitress comes out and pours their wine. She seems to be focused on Lexa and if Clarke's not mistaken she's flirting with her. She's never been the jealous type before, but now she's seeing red. Before Clarke can open her mouth Lexa is speaking coolly.

"We'd like a different waiter."

The head chef himself comes to apologize, and take their orders. He's engaging Lexa in a serious discussion about the nuances of French sauces. He leaves with a bow to both of them, and they're alone again.

"So, about that painting I want to commission. Have you thought about it?"

"Often. I have an idea in mind, but that's a surprise. I'm doing it a gratis."

"You're not. You art is worth millions, baby girl. I'm offering five million," she looks stern but Clarke presses on.

"500 thousand."

"2.5 million," Lexa counters and Clarke brings her Louboutin clad foot to run up her leg to press into the bulge she finds at the end of her journey.

"One million sounds good, Daddy. Or do I need to play dirty?"

Lexa gulps and nods. Clarke removes her foot and Lexa pulls her checkbook out of her pocket, cuts the check, and hands it to Clarke.

"Think of it as an investment into a rising star in the art world," she says with a wink.

Their food arrives, and they fall into a comfortable silence. It's honestly one of the best things Clarke has ever tasted. Whatever kind of duck she's eating is delicious, and Lexa is rolling her eyes into the back of her head at the taste of her filet mignon. The plates are cleared and desert is served on the house.

"You've got..." Lexa leans in holding her tie back and licks at the corner of Clarke's mouth, coming back with chocolate on her tongue and a wicked grin. Clarke feels her panties dampen on the spot. Lexa drops another wad of cash on the table and stands to pull out Clarke's chair.

The ride back is painfully slow, but they make it sitting as close as they can, Lexa's arm holding Clarke close, the other combing through blonde hair. As the door to the penthouse opens, Lexa moves to her bar and pours them both whiskeys.

"Daddy?" Clarke calls out, an idea forming in her mind.

"Yes?" she replies, taking a sip of her expensive liquor, moving to her favorite chair, loosening her tie. She sits with her legs spread, one hand holding the glass, the other drumming on the leather of the armrest.

"Can put a show on for you?" Clarke says as she deposits her clutch on the coffee table. She gets a slow nod, and Lexa relaxes back.

Clarke walks to the record player and picks out some Marvin Gaye, the needle drops and Clarke turns around, heels cackling as she moves to stand in front of Lexa.

Her hips start to moves along to the music, swaying in a mesmerizing way. Lexa's eyes are raking over her, and she feels alive. She manages to undo her zipper enough to push the top part far down enough to reveal her breast straining against red lace. She gets a jolt when Lexa licks her licks, takes a long gulp of whiskey. A prominent bulge is starting to grow slowly. Clarke's touching her chest, fingers dancing over hard nipples through the lace.

She wriggles slowly out of the dress, turning around to press her thong covered ass inches from Lexa's face as she bends. Her hips are moving in circles, her hands in her hair. She moves her knees to either side of Lexa, kneeling with her back straight, tossing her hair in a circle.

Her bras flick off and she trails the straps off slowly, arms covering herself as it falls, then moving to hold the back of the chair she pushes forward. Lexa's face is lost between her large breasts and she can feel her hot wet tongue tracing over her skin. Clarke weaves a hand through her hair and guides her to each breast in turn. Lexa lavishes them both. She's never been religious, Lexa, but she's worshiping at the alter currently.

She pulls back, hands taking her tie off. Clarke grinds down roughly onto her rock hard erection, and then Lexa is swiftly pulling her arms behind her back, slipping the knot over her wrists, pulling it tight and trapping her arms. She pulls Clarke up to stand by the tie and wraps a long fingered hand around her throat, pushing her head to the side and speaking directly into her ear. Her voice is low and deadly.

"You were very naughty while Daddy wasn't home. Daddy's home know, and I'm going to punish you like you deserve for being a dirty slut."

"Yes, Daddy," Clarke whispers, and her thong is ruined.

Lexa leads her by the tie onto her large balcony.

"I want all of New York City to know who your Daddy is, and you're going to scream it to them," Lexa says rubbing at her dick through her pants. She leads Clarke to a chaise curved to maximize their activities. She lays her down gently, then rough rope is binding her ankles together. Clarke turns her head to watch as Lexa undoes her belt then slaps it in her hands.

"You want the belt this time, baby girl?" Lexa asks with a quirk of her eyebrow. Clarke bites her lip and nods.

One testing whip of the leather belt has Clarke keening back to meet the stronger blow that connects with the next cheek.

"H-Harder, Daddy, pleeease," Clarke moans loudly.

Lexa obliges and the next loud smack draws a thin line of blood against her reddening ass cheek. A smile appears on Lexa's face.

"Who's your Daddy, Clarke?" she yells and the belt coming crashing down hard twice in quick succession. Clarke lets out a pitiful moan.

"You're my Daddy!" Clarke screams into the night, hips pushing back for another hard lash of the belt.

"Lexa is my Daddy!" she adds as Lexa gives her one last hard whack then drops the belt. She's got her hands on the slightly bloodied ass then, rubbing soothingly. About five thin red lines are criss-crossing her deliciously plump ass.

"Daddy, please," Clarke whines. "Fuck me, Daddy."

"Shhh, baby girl. Don't worry. Daddy's got your medicine."

Lexa unzips her pants and her boxers and pants are pushed to her ankles. Her dick is harder than she ever remembers. She smacks it several times against Clarke's ass, and Clarke watches it as it bounces back with a small smear of her blood.

Lexa runs her tip through Clarke's wetness as it drips down her thighs. She kicks her pants and shoes off and moves down to lick a path from Clarke's back where her tie bound hands rest up to her neck, sucking her earlobe into her mouth.

"Tell Daddy how you want it, baby," Lexa husks.

"Fast," Clarke moans out. "Hard enough to wreck me."

Lexa smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek before lining herself up at Clarke's soaked entrance. She pushes her hips forward and slips barely inside. Clarke is groaning as she's stretched. Lexa lets her breathe and adjust before pushing further.

She's exceptionally tight and it takes a minute for Lexa to get all the way in. She grabs Clarke by the hair pulling her upright and pants into her ear as she quickens, Clarke flush against her. She pumps harder and faster, and when she feels Clarke start to clench around her she slows. Clarke is grunting in frustration by the third time, and Lexa laughs.

"Patience, baby girl. Daddy's got you," she says into her ear.

One hand is holding Clarke against her to balance her as she ups the pace to a new higher level. The other hands is tweaking and pulling at sore nipple, then snaking down to her clit to rub hard.

Clarke is on the verge and Lexa's voice is clear and commanding.

"Come for Daddy," and Clarke's screaming her release, whole body shivering and trembling.

Lexa guides her down with hard slowing thrusts, and when she feels Clarke's body relax she pulls out. She shoves Clarke to lie on her back and stands over her, hand guiding her dick to her mouth, hips rocking back and forth and Clarke gulps it down.

This goes on until Lexa's can't deny her release anymore, and she taps Clarke's cheek to let her know, but Clarke won't release the vice like grip her mouth has on her head, tongue swirling madly. Lexa gives in and throws her head back, hand coming down to stroke and coax out her come into Clarke's greedy mouth.

Lexa feels like she's on top of the world as she watches Clarke swallow her milky load, finally releasing her dick and smiling widely.

"Good job, baby girl," Lexa praises, and she pulls Clarke to stand on wobbly legs. Lexa pulls her own pants back on and undoes Clarke's restraints with loving touches.

Lexa bends and scoops Clarke into her strong arms and carries her to bed where the rest of her punishment is waiting on them.

 

Clarke wakes up a little worse for wear, but not in any pain. She sees Lexa's side of the bed is empty, even though she had spooned her the whole night. She hears grunts and looks down to see Lexa doing pushups on the dark wood flooring next to the floor to ceiling windows, her arms flexing and back rippling. She's wearing a black sports bra and light blue Columbia sweatpants that Clarke makes a note to steal when she's not looking.

Lexa reaches one hundred and stands up, sweat dripping down her body. She faces Clarke as she watches blue eyes travel down to the imprint of her dick through her sweatpants.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Can you come show we how to use your shower?" Clarke purrs, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Lexa nods with a smirks and leads the way.

She doesn't make it to work on time, but arrives fresh faced and thoroughly fuck. It's her damn company anyways. Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she sees a text.

_Going to the shops to pick up some new toys ;) xx_

Lexa gives a big sigh and settles in for a long, long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go do 20 Hail Marys you dirty whores.


	3. Epilouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over now.

It's Friday afternoon and Clarke's wondering what game Lexa is playing with her today. She told Clarke to be ready by 12:30PM and in casual wear with a beach bag and swimsuit.

Lexa pulls up in a white Maybach coupe, and hops out to help Clarke with her bag, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek.

"You look different out of a suit and tie," Clarke says as she slides into the passenger side.

"Good or bad different?" Lexa asks as she puts the car back into gear and speeds off.

Clarke runs her eyes over Lexa, a blue and white gingham checkered shirt rolled up to the elbows, buttons undone to show a bit of her bikini underneath. She's wearing khaki shorts that show off her long legs without being too revealing and a pair of trendy hightops. Her hairs is done back in intricate braids with a few baby hairs curling around her face, Ray Bans on.

"Very good," Clarke says, sliding her hand under Lexa's on the gear stick to rest on her bare thigh.

"Thanks, baby girl. You look fantastic as usual," Lexa says with a smile at her.

It's an easy going drive to the Hamptons, and Clarke fiddles with the sound system as they go, singing loudly along with the music, Lexa joining in when Clarke pushes her imaginary microphone in her face. There's lots of laughter, Lexa sneaking her hand under the hem of Clarke's sundress only to be scolded for not focusing on the road.

It's a slightly breezy warm sunny day in Southampton, and as they pull up to Lexa's beach house, Clarke steps out and takes a deep breath of salty air. The house is quaint by Lexa's standards, just two stories and not lavishly decorated. It's still got her modern style to it, lots of clean white lines, steel beams, modern art, but with rustic qualities that make it a true Hamptons home.

"This is my smallest property," Lexa says as they stand in the bathroom, applying sunscreen to each other. "I originally bought it to remodel and put back on the market at triple the original asking price, but I got attached. My accountants didn't appreciate that," she chuckles.

Clarke challenges Lexa to a race to the water, and she's certain Lexa lets her win. She's not complaining though, she gets a nice view of Lexa sauntering towards her in her tight and short European style swimming trunks and bikini, large package moving with each step. As Lexa breaks the water and moves into the deeper waves where Clarke's watching, she can make out the shape of her dick, the soft imprint of the head, her balls, everything.

"You fill out those trunks nicely, Daddy," Clarke purrs in Lexa's ear.

"Mmmm, that's sweet of you to say, baby girl. But to honest, I'm dealing with a little shrinkage at the moment. The Atlantic is rather cold."

Clarke rubs tightly against her, and they both can feel the shrinkage start to slip away. The cold water rushes around them, waves covering their chests, and it's a world of heat instead.

At sundown they stop splashing and dunking each other under long enough to bring out the ingredients for a meal to the patio's grill. Lexa is grilling up shrimp, lobster tails, and vegetables. Clarke is mixing up Pratt's version of classed up jungle juice, fresh juices and all the types of liquor she can find. Lexa fake retches when Clarke brings her a sip, but honestly it's very good, as she tells her.

Lexa's stoking the small fire at the edge of the tide, their bellies full, as Clarke presses back into the many pillows and blankets they'd brought out.

"What was it like growing up for you? I mean with your special anatomy?"

"Easier than you'd think. When I hit puberty I realized how different I was," Lexa says as she moves to hold Clarke. "It wasn't until college and my first serious relationship that I started to gain confidence. The relationship didn't last long, but it left me a legend at her sorority, and at every sorority within gossiping distance."

"Meaning what? Group sex?"

"Meaning having a dozen or more girls fighting over my dick at a time. It got old fast. I prefer having one girl at a time, though I don't mind adding a third party if my female companion is into it."

"I don't think I'd be able to handle anymore stimulation than you already give me, Daddy," Clarke rasps into her ear, hand moving to gasp her cock over her loose silken shorts. Lexa rolls her shoulders as Clarke strokes her semi erect dick.

"I bought you a present with that check you gave me," Clarke breaths out. "You know, those toys I was texting you about."

Lexa rises then and leads them to the master bedroom where Clarke's beach bag is. Lexa lays down and lifts to pull her t-shirt up and throws it away. Her cock is twitching in her over tight silk shorts. Clarke strips in record time.

Clarke comes back with some warming oils and a small rubber looking object. She starts by flipping her Daddy on to her stomach and pouring the oil all over her. She works at the stress induced kinks in her neck and ends at the small of her back.

"That feels so good, baby girl," Lexa moans.

Lexa flips onto her back and captures Clarke in a heated kiss that lasts long minutes. Their tongues meet and perform a sensual dance. Clarke pulls back and licks a path from her jaw to her neck.

"What's that you're holding, baby girl?"

"Something for my Daddy's pleasure," Clarke says holding it out.

It's the biggest cock ring she could find, and it's still a bit small looking. Hopefully it'll stretch far enough.

Clarke settles between Lexa's thighs and gives her erection a long suck, hoping to lube the head enough to slip the cock ring on. Once she's satisfied with the amount of saliva she's left she flicks on the vibration and starts working it onto Lexa.

Lexa jerks as she feels the vibration and her dick jumps in Clarke's hands.

"I think I can work with this," she breathes out.

Once it's settled against the base of her cock, Clarke turns around, hands gripping Lexa's strong thighs and settles her ass just over where Lexa's proud member is standing. Lexa guides it in just barely, and Clarke sinks down slowly. Once she's all the way down she can feel the vibrator on her tight asshole. She wonders briefly when Lexa's going to claim that territory as well.

A hard smack to her ass and Clarke's pumping at a fine pace, Lexa's hands gripping her asscheeks and guiding her along. Lexa is watching transfixed as Clarke takes her fully then slides back up, her lips moving deliciously along her length. The cock ring is tight, but she guesses that's the point. She can already tell she's going to last much longer than usual.

Clarke's moans are getting obscenely loud and Lexa is grunting her pleasure back at her. Lexa's hips start meeting Clarke halfway, and the sensation of Lexa reaching her deepest place is driving Clarke insane. She's so close that she drags a hand down to rub at her straining clit. Lexa considers slapping it away, making her suffer, but she can't bring herself to do it.

It takes just a minute of Clarke rubbing at herself, Lexa upping the pace to a bruising level and she's screaming her release. Lexa slows to let her relax slightly, then she's pushing Clarke off, standing and scooping her back up.

She slides herself back in easily, and Clarke wraps her legs around her waist instantly. Lexa is pumping away madly, one hand holding Clarke up, the other pulling and pinch at each nipple in time, mouth and teeth leaving their marks across a pale neck.

"Daddy!" Clarke yelps as she feels the vibration against her clit.

"Daddy's got you," Lexa breathes out as she sets her hips rutting in a blinding speed.

Clarke's second orgasm is harder and longer than the first, and she lets out a long string out expletives mixed with Lexa's name, some Daddy's thrown in for good measure.

When she's calmed down, Lexa walks still sheathed deep inside Clarke, arms tight around her neck, to the cocoon of pillows and blankets by the beach, their fire dying down. She sits with Clarke straddling her hips, canting like she could never be sated. Clarke is biting down hard on her shoulder to delay the inevitable, and in any other circumstance this would warrant extreme punishment. But Lexa doesn't care. She feels much closer to her own release.

Clarke shudders around her again, rubbing into the vibrator, Lexa deep with in her. This time Lexa wants a shared release, so she lay Clarke back onto the blankets and pounds into her as hard and fast as she can.

It takes her another two minutes, and in that short amount of time Clarke comes again, then Lexa is arching back, Clarke's chest bowing to meet her.

"Fuuuuuuuck," Lexa groans as she starts to release deep into Clarke's fluttering heat. Clarke is clenching and milking every last drop, and it's delicious oblivion. Lexa drives down, looking to keep this lasting forever.

She kisses Clarke with all the adoration she feels, still thrusting slowly. She feels herself start to soften a bit and races to get the cock ring off. Their shared releases are staining the blankets, but she's beyond caring. Lexa pulls Clarke up and into her strong arms, rubbing at her back, kissing her teasingly. The smiles she feels against her lips make her heart thump even faster.

After a while she moves them to a dry area and pulls Clarke to lay on top of her, hand running through blonde waves.

"So, good use of that check, Daddy?" Clarke asks snuggling into the crook of her neck.

"Fantastic," Lexa laughs.

"Can I ask you something serious?"

"Of course, Clarke," Lexa says head tilting to look her in the eye.

"How is it that I'm not pregnant?"

Lexa sighs heavily at this. She'd been dreading this.

"I take an experimental drug from Europe. It makes me unlikely to have children."

"And is it reversible?"

Lexa smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. Clarke grins back, knowing what's on her mind.

"Wanting to have my babies already?" Lexa quips.

"Maybe someday," Clarke replies fingers ghosting over her abs.

"Me too. Actually, I was planning on asking you to move in with me soon. I've got a room that could easily be converted into a studio for you."

"You wouldn't get tired of me?" Clarke asks with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Never," Lexa whispers, and it's the truth.

Clarke can't help it. As they lay drifting off to sleep in the master bedroom, the smell of ocean spray and salt surrounding then, she whispers a quiet I love you into the night air. Lexa pull her impossibly closer and mumbles it right back into the shell of her ear.

 

Back in New York City, it really feels like the concrete jungle. Clarke is doing a test run stay over at Lexa's for the next couple of days, and she takes great care in picking out her suits each morning after she's rubbed one off to Lexa's morning work outs. She tries to sneakily suck her off while she cooks them breakfast, but usually just ends up getting fucked on the counter top in varying positions.

Lexa's bought the best art supplies she can find, and Clarke's mind is alight with possibilities. She actually starts a journal, she gets ideas so fast. Lexa talks over dinner about getting Clarke a gallery space of her own.

The test run ends with Lexa sending over a moving company for the rest of Clarke's stuff and paying to break her lease. Clarke repays her by bringing her lunch the next day and giving her a blowjob while she's on a conference call afterwards. They settle into a comfortable rhythm, and neither of them have ever been this happy.

Three months in they take a much needed vacation to London. Clarke's been busy with her new gallery and Lexa with expanding her company into China. Lexa proposes with a massive diamond ring, and Clarke cries her yes a thousand times.

They marry at a mansion in Napa Valley, and it's everything Clarke could have dreamed for. Both sets of parents are there and supportive, along with friends and colleagues. They honeymoon in the Maldives, then Greece.

A couple of months later Clarke coerces Lexa into stopping her medication to prevent pregnancy. Lexa is more emotional that first night they try for a child than Clarke's ever seen her. It fills her heart with joy, and it's a long time before Clarke falls asleep in Lexa's sleep heavy arms.

A year in and Clarke's nearing her delivery date. Lexa is there through out the process. She massages lotion into her stretched skin nightly, rubs her feet, caters to every whim. It's so nice Clarke wants another as soon as possible. Lexa is there to hold her hand through the whole birthing process. Their first child is healthy and beautiful. Lexa cries sincerely as she holds her for the first time, a tuft of blonde hair and hints of Lexa's own facial features.

The second child is a boy and takes after Lexa. Their daughter is there to hold him after, and they both melt at the sight.

The gallery takes off and soon there's a satellite in LA and one in Paris. Lexa hands off part of her control of her company to a trusted partner to have more time to jet-set with her family. Their love life never dulls, and Clarke has been claimed in every way and every position imaginable. Her love for Lexa grows daily, seeing her with two of their kids clambering up her legs, laughing freely.

They settle to bed in their new Tokyo penthouse, kids fast asleep and Clarke catches the hunger in her eyes.

"Do you remember our first time?" Clarke asks.

"Vividly," Lexa replies tucking blonde hair behind her ear.

"I want to feel that again," Clarke confesses.

They stay up much later than usual that night, Lexa fulfilling Clarke's every fantasy. As Lexa drifts off she thanks Columbia for giving her this beautiful life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you sinners. Might write more Fine Stud Lexa soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me padre for I have sinned. *jumps into Olympic sized swimming pool of holy water*


End file.
